So Close to a Great Tale

The first time I met Paul Goydos was in 1993 at the Buick Open. I was working on my first golf book and was killing time in the late afternoon before going to meet a player for dinner. Goydos had shot the only low round of the afternoon and the PGA Tour media officials working the tournament decided to bring him into the interview room because they thought it would be good experience for a rookie.

Goydos ambled in, took the microphone and, in his opening comments said: "I'm guessing most of you have never heard of me. There's a reason for that: I've never done anything."

My ears perked up. I detected a sense of humor. Later, talking about his 66, he said, "I always play better when I get my slice going. I know on tour we're supposed to call it a fade, but if you hit a 7-iron and it goes 20 yards to the right I call that a slice."

This was clearly someone I had to meet.

While I was researching, "A Good Walk Spoiled," we struck up a friendship. Paul's was not your typical PGA Tour story. He was the son of a Navy veteran and had gone to Long Beach State. He was, essentially, self-taught, had never had a coach or psychologist or as they now call it on tour, "a team," working with him. He had figured any notion of a pro career was over when an arthritic-type condition in his hands, that plagued him right after college, made it almost impossible for him to grip a club.

So, he became a junior high school teacher, in the inner city in Long Beach. He has memories of diving to the blacktop, face down on a couple of occasions when gun shots were heard in the school yard. He also became close to a number of his students and, even after his golf career had landed him on the PGA Tour making good money, he didn't forget those experiences.

One night in 1994, Goydos found himself at dinner with, among others, Tom Watson. Just being in the same room with Watson awed Goydos. As the evening wore on, the subject turned to politics and Watson began talking about welfare mothers and his belief that the government should stop supporting people who had no interest in trying to support themselves.

When Watson paused for a moment, Goydos cleared his throat and said quietly, "You know Tom, I had the chance to know some of the people you're talking about. I'm sure what you're saying is true of some of them, but not the ones I dealt with. They wanted to work, they wanted to change their circumstances. Most of them hated the idea that they had to accept welfare checks. I honestly don't think it works the way you think it does."

Watson happens to be both smart and inquisitive. Rather than shout Goydos down, he asked him questions about his teaching experiences and the people he was talking about. Two years later, Goydos won his first tournament, at Bay Hill. That night I happened to run into Watson.

"I watched your boy down the stretch today," he said (everyone on tour calls Goydos my boy). "I was really glad he won. We need more people like him on this tour."

This from someone whose politics could not be more different than those of my boy.

That's why it was so tough watching Goydos come down the stretch at The Players Championship on Sunday. Reporters are supposed to be objective but we're not. When you get to know people the way we do there are going to be some you like more than others and some you root for and some you root against. There's no one in sports I root harder for than Goydos.